


A Fish out of Water

by masi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masi/pseuds/masi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ushijima is having a hard time adjusting to life in Tokyo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fish out of Water

**Author's Note:**

> 100% self-indulgence, much longer than I wanted it to be, very brief mature content; thank you to those who are able to make it to the end

A month after Oikawa Tooru first tosses to him during practice, Ushijima asks Oikawa, “Would you like to do something this Saturday?”

He knows that he has made a mistake after the last word leaves his mouth. He can see his mistake written across Oikawa’s face, can hear it in the loud laugh echoing around the empty locker room of their university’s gymnasium. Ushijima scowls.

He has never understood the appeal of dating, why it is considered fun to dress up and go to a public place for the purpose of engaging in stilted conversations, why a person who often engages in such behavior is considered popular and urbane. He always knew, however, that he would have to start dating once he became a university student. His family expects that of him, and besides, he doesn’t want to be completely alone all of his life. But he had thought he would find a nice, sweet woman (or man, maybe) who liked quiet dates at home, where they could eat a wholesome dinner made from homegrown vegetables, followed by a night of lovemaking. Perhaps they could visit the Akatsuka Botanical Garden together and spectate at professional volleyball matches. He never thought he would voluntarily ask Oikawa out.

“I would like to do something,” Oikawa replies, still laughing. “I have many things to do, actually. Like laundry, the dishes, and dusting. Oh, and shopping.” He brushes at the shoulders of his jacket. “People are so fashionable in Tokyo! I have to keep up, you know. Or maybe you don’t know, because your wardrobe consists entirely of fitness clothing, but that’s okay for you, Ushiwaka-chan, you’re already a hopeless cause.”

“Are you saying that I’m ugly?” Ushijima asks, and then he wants to kick himself for responding to Oikawa’s baiting.

He waits for a monologue on beauty and how Oikawa has plenty of it, but Oikawa must be tired from practice because he only looks at Ushijima thoughtfully before replying, “Ugly is a subjective word, right? So.” Oikawa picks his bag up, slings it over his shoulder. “What were you asking me earlier?”

“Nothing,” Ushijima says. 

He ought to have left with the others right after showering. Oikawa is a bit overwhelming even when he is in the company of others, and to be alone in his presence is almost nerve-wracking. Perhaps, Ushijima reflects, tonight’s questionable behavior can be attributed to stress, to a long month of challenging coursework and team-focused volleyball in a team composed entirely of ace-level players, to trying to adjust to the hustle and bustle of Tokyo. Just because Oikawa is more excellent than Ushijima had thought previously doesn’t mean Ushijima can just ask him out. He isn’t entirely sure that Oikawa is inclined that way, while he is one hundred percent certain that Oikawa is still angry about all the times he lost to Ushijima in their school days. 

It is enough that Oikawa tosses to him during practice instead of standing around with Iwaizumi and glaring at him. Maybe they will become friends by graduation. They have about four years.

“Are you pouting, Ushiwaka-chan?” Oikawa says, leaning in so close that Ushijima can see the precise curve of Oikawa’s thick eyelashes, can see the red in the brown eyes, can see, under the pretty nose, a faint blemish. A hickey perhaps, or a cut from shaving.

Ushijima wonders what Oikawa looks like with a five o-clock shadow. Probably horrible. He already has too much hair, curling away from his face in gentle waves before he steps onto the court to play, matted to his forehead after a match, heavy with water that drips down to his neck and back after a shower. Beautiful, always. Ushijima wants to touch it.

“You _are_ pouting,” Oikawa says, smiling. “How cute.” Then he makes a face. “There must be something in Tokyo’s water. I can’t believe I called you cute.”

“I’m going home,” Ushijima says, loudly and unnecessarily. Their dormitories are in the same complex. They will have to walk the two blocks from the gymnasium to the complex together. Unless Oikawa has a date lined up. He is almost as popular here as he was back in Miyagi. 

Oikawa follows him out of the gymnasium and to the crosswalk, humming to himself. Ushijima tries to ignore him. He stands at the very edge of the curb to maximize the distance between them, but Oikawa manages to squeeze himself through the slight spaces in the crowd and find a place next to him.

Thankfully, Oikawa’s phone starts ringing as they cross the street. Oikawa launches into a long conversation with Iwaizumi, who left after practice to finish an assignment. Ushijima tunes Oikawa out, lets himself be carried along by the swarm of pedestrians, thinks about the changes the coach has made to the training program.

His attention snaps back to Oikawa when he hears his name being said. He glares at Oikawa, who sticks his tongue out in response. Ushijima hopes that Oikawa won’t mention what happened in the locker room. It was one thing to be denied, but hearing people laugh about it will be too much. He will never speak to Oikawa again, no matter how much he likes spiking Oikawa’s tosses.

“We’re walking home together!” Oikawa informs Iwaizumi. “It’s troublesome, but we can’t have Ushiwaka-chan getting lost, can we? We have a practice match against Bokuto and Kuroo coming up, and only someone as thickheaded as Ushiwaka-chan can play against them.” He pauses for a moment. Ushijima can hear Iwaizumi yelling on the other end. 

Oikawa smiles, his expression softening a bit, or that could be a trick of the streetlights. His tone is fond, however, as he says, “Alright, alright, I’ll behave, Iwa-chan. Please don’t burst a blood vessel when I’m not there to take care of you.” He holds his phone away from his ear. Iwaizumi is cursing a blue streak. 

After five seconds, Oikawa returns the phone to his ear and starts talking about many times he was propositioned this week. Ushijima feels a bit sorry for Iwaizumi. He is glad, most of the time, that he doesn’t have any odd childhood friends who have followed him to university. Too much trouble.

Oikawa hangs up only after they reach the dormitories, saying, “Okay, Iwa-chan, I promise I won’t stay up late tonight,” and then he turns to Ushijima with an expectant smile.

“What?” Ushijima says.

“Weren’t you asking me something earlier?” Oikawa taps his chin. “You have such a talent for repeating yourself, so why are you being shy now? Go on.”

“I changed my mind.”

“I have too.” Oikawa turns towards his building. He says over his shoulder, “Be ready by seven, Ushiwaka-chan. This Saturday night, alright?”

***

Ushijima spends an extra ten minutes in the shower on Saturday evening, makes sure to scrub behind his ears, uses conditioner. After returning to his dorm room, he applies lotion and also spritzes on some cologne. Oikawa always looks so put-together, and while his natural beauty helps in that projection, the least Ushijima can do is look and smell clean.

Oikawa has been reticent about where they are going, so Ushijima puts on a white shirt, a brown sweater, and a pair of khakis. He is about to pull out his best pair of sneakers from the closet when he sees a pair of loafers. He puts those on instead.

“Goodness, Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa says when they meet in front of the bench parked midway between their dormitories, “are you going to a job interview? It’s a bit too early to become a salaryman, isn’t it?” He looks Ushijima up and down, lips pursed. He is wearing a pair of slim plaid pants and a bright blue sweater.

“You haven’t told me where we’re going,” Ushijima snaps. “How was I supposed to know what to wear?”

“Touché,” Oikawa replies, giving him a bright smile. “Well, I guess there’s only one place we can go now. Just a second.”

Before Ushijima can react, Oikawa unfastens the button below Ushijima’s shirt collar, tugs the collar out farther. Then he walks towards the street, humming. 

Ushijima follows.

After ten minutes, Oikawa stops in front of a bustling Chinese restaurant. Not bad, Ushijima thinks. A large restaurant minimizes awkwardness in a way smaller, more private establishments cannot.

When he steps into the restaurant, however, he sees that about half the place is filled with Oikawa’s fanclub. Some of them are dressed nicely, while others are in jeans. They have pushed three tables together and have already started eating. Iwaizumi is there too, along with a few other first-year reserves from the volleyball club.

The other reserves greet Ushijima politely, but Iwaizumi scowls and snaps at Oikawa, “What’s he doing here?”

“He got lost on his way to a job interview,” Oikawa replies, taking a seat between Iwaizumi and a woman who has pair of sunglasses perched on top of her head. “Give him something to eat and send him on his way, will you?”

Iwaizumi glowers at Oikawa for a moment longer, and then turns to Ushijima, who is wondering which would be more degrading, staying after what Oikawa has just said in front of this large group of people, or leaving.

“Whatever you two are doing,” Iwaizumi says, “just stop. Okay?” 

He pulls a chair up for Ushijima, and as Ushijima is about to sit down, Iwaizumi murmurs into Ushijima’s ear, “I’m telling you because you seem more reasonable than Asskawa.”

It’s not bad advice, Ushijima knows. Life was easier back in Tohoku, where he only occasionally thought about Oikawa and dreamed about receiving his tosses. Now hardly an hour goes by in which he does not think about Oikawa. He has become really pathetic.

Resolutely, he looks away from Oikawa. He tries to tune out the excessive flattery of the crowd. Someone hands him a bowl and a plate, and he fills them with the food that is directly in front of him. He is not particularly hungry, but food will give him something to do.

He is halfway through his too oily fried rice when he hears someone say his name. “Ushijima-kun,” instead of the usual “Ushiwaka” that everyone knows him by because of Oikawa, damn him. Ushijima looks up to see the girl across from him smiling. 

“I’ve seen you play,” she informs him. “When you jumped, you took my breath away.”

“Kumiko-san!” Oikawa protests before Ushijima can open his mouth. “Please be careful when talking to him. He’s really very simple and not used to such high level flirting.”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi mutters, “give it a rest.”

It feels strange to be defended by Iwaizumi. They have learned how to be civil with each other in the past month, but there is certainly no love lost between them. 

Oikawa looks annoyed for a second, but then he shrugs a shoulder, turns back to the sunglasses girl. He doesn’t look Ushijima’s way for the rest of the evening. 

The girl across from Ushijima has also lost interest. She is praising one of the reserves for his blocking ability. When the group starts talking about going to a karaoke bar, Ushijima knows that it is time to leave.

Back in his dorm, he changes into his pajamas and goes to bed. He lies awake for a long time, his pillow pressed to his ears to block out the loud music blaring in the adjacent rooms. He thinks about how unfulfilling his move to Tokyo has been, how insignificant and replaceable he has become both on the court and off it, how much confidence he has lost. He has almost four whole years to endure before he can uproot himself again and move on.

***

On Sunday morning Ushijima gets up as soon as his alarm goes off. He opens his curtains, and as the sunlight floods into the room, he resolves to be a stronger person. No more lying around feeling maudlin, no more angst about getting substituted more often than not during matches, no more pining. He has to get started on his new training program. In the evening he will get some extra reading done for his Agricultural Studies classes.

He goes for a morning run. It feels odd, running around in circles in a park, feels a bit contained and artificial, like he is a hamster on a wheel, but the sidewalks are too crowded. No angst, he reminds himself, and runs faster.

After his run, he goes to the gym on campus. He is going to work on strength-training this morning. He has just started on the bench press when Oikawa appears.

Ushijima almost drops the barbell. He cannot remember seeing Oikawa here during the weekends before. He feels uncomfortable, lying on his back while Oikawa is standing next to him. He can tell that Oikawa is thinking the same thing, judging by the way Oikawa is rising up on his toes a bit, looking very pleased with himself. 

“Good morning, Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa says in a sing-song voice. “Are you sure you can handle that much weight? And without a spotter! Living dangerously, hm? Are you working out so that you can impress Kumiko-san next time we have a match?”

“Go away, Oikawa,” Ushijima says. Oikawa’s voice is so annoying in the mornings.

“Really?” Oikawa frowns. “You’re telling me to go away now? After spending years telling me to come to Shiratorizawa and serve for you? What happened, Ushiwaka-chan, am I not the excellent seedling I once was?”

“You are,” Ushijima replies, lifting the barbell again. “But for a carnivorous plant, like the Drosera anglica. English Sundew.”

“Aww.” Oikawa laughs. “That’s actually a cute name, and foreign too!” He watches Ushijima for a moment and then adds, “You’re overextending your left arm.”

Ushijima adjusts his grip. After he finishes, he gets up and asks, “What are you doing here? Did you just come to bother me?”

“Rude!” Oikawa protests. “Here I was, about to take you to a nice place, and you’re making false accusations!”

Ushijima finds his towel and wipes his face. He says, “I’m not going anywhere with you ever again.”

“Never say never,” Oikawa says.

Ushijima feels a cool hand on his nape. He looks up, surprised, to find Oikawa withdrawing his hand. “You missed a spot,” Oikawa replies, wipes his fingers off on his pants. “Actually, you’ve missed several spots. Hurry up and take a shower so that we can get going.”

Ten minutes later, Ushijima is outside again, letting Oikawa lead him to yet another place.

This time Oikawa stops in front of a café, one with outdoor seating and servers. He finds an empty table near the sidewalk and sits down. Ushijima sits across from him and tries not to think about how beautiful Oikawa looks this morning, beautiful like a rose in full bloom. 

Oikawa is silent now, so Ushijima tries to come up with a suitable topic for conversation. This is a good chance for them to become friends. They are alone together but also not too alone because of the people seated around them. 

However, he has failed to think of anything by the time the server arrives. They both order sandwiches and coffee. Oikawa asks for whipped cream on his cappuccino. 

After the server leaves, Ushijima says, “All that sugar and milk is unhealthy.”

“Well, what can I do?” Oikawa spreads his hands. “I need some extra sugar in my life since my friends and acquaintances are so sour. What makes them so sour, I wonder?” 

Ushijima shakes his head. There’s just no way to have an easy, straightforward conversation with Oikawa. It is very fitting, Ushijima thinks, that Oikawa is studying psychology. He already knows how to extract information from people, how to analyze them correctly, without revealing too much about himself.

“Your day is always sweetened when I’m with you, right, Ushiwaka-chan?” Oikawa asks, smiling.

Ushijima tries not to blush as he snaps, “Not at all.”

“But my tosses are sweet, right? You love them.” Oikawa pulls a folded paper out of his jacket pocket. “Good, because I need you to memorize these signals for our match against Bokuto.” He slides the paper across the table.

“You could’ve just shown me tomorrow,” Ushijima says as he unfolds the paper. “I’m not a grade-school kid who needs extra time to memorize signals.”

“How ungrateful,” Oikawa says. “And here I was, trying to help. The more synchronized we are, the more likely we are to be chosen to play. Or do you want to be demoted to the cheerleaders’ section, Ushiwaka-chan? You probably have a nice, loud cheering voice, don’t you? Too bad you didn’t come with us last night to demonstrate it.”

Their orders arrive. Ushijima looks over the signals as he drinks his coffee. They are fairly basic, but Oikawa’s drawing skills leave much to be desired. The setters at Shiratorizawa were better. Oikawa must be out of practice, having been surrounded by the same players for many years.

However, it was nice of him to do this instead of just relying on Iwaizumi. Ushijima folds the paper back up. He slides it back to Oikawa, says, “Got it.”

“That fast?” Oikawa raises an eyebrow. He sips his coffee and then sets the cup down neatly next to his half-eaten sandwich. “Read them again.”

“Once is enough.” Ushijima unwraps his sandwich. 

The vegetable spread feels rubbery. It is hard to swallow. The food tastes fresher in Tohoku. Oikawa, however, seems satisfied with his own. Or he isn’t paying attention. He is staring at the other customers.

After Ushijima has finished his sandwich, Oikawa looks at him again, asks in an expectant tone, “Well?”

Ushijima scrunches the wrapper up into a ball. “Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Oikawa puffs out his lower lip. “After all the trouble I went through. I had to wake up early this morning to do that, you know.”

“Thank you,” Ushijima says.

Oikawa looks startled for a moment, like he wasn’t expecting that answer, but then he smiles. “There really is something in Tokyo’s water,” he says. “Iwa-chan says it’s all in my head, but you’re a prime example of how wrong he is.”

He scoots his chair back. “Well then, I’ll be off.” He places a few bills next to Ushijima’s coffee cup and then walks off.

***

The first thing Iwaizumi says to him after the game against Bokuto and Kuroo is, “Ushiwaka, I thought I told you to back off, what the fuck.”

“What are you talking about?” Ushijima replies as he pulls on a pair of clean socks. He really doesn’t have time for pointless arguments now. He wants to hold onto the memory of the win a little bit longer, the final point, how perfect Oikawa’s toss was, delivered at a most correct angle, how perfect the ball had felt against Ushijima’s fingers, how easy it was to send the ball over the net and hit the exact spot he was aiming for on the opposite court. And the memory of what transpired before, during the second timeout. Oikawa had rested his hand on Ushijima’s back for a moment.

Iwaizumi says, zipping up his jersey, “Alright, I’m done with you two. Your problem now.” He raises his voice as Oikawa walks over to them, “You heard me, Asskawa? You’re not allowed to come crying to me later, and I’m not going to play mediator or whatever.”

“But Iwa-chan,” Oikawa protests, “aren’t you the one who said we should put our differences and rivalry aside and work together as a team? You said that that was the adult thing to do.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Iwaizumi hisses. He glances around and then mutters in a low voice, “Teamwork? I bet even your fangirls could smell the UST, up on the bleachers.”

“What’s UST?” Ushijima asks.

“Mind your own business, Ushiwaka,” Oikawa replies, his voice much deeper than usual, that quirk he has when he gets angry. He is frowning at Iwaizumi.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi says, frowning as well, “I didn’t say-”

“Oi, first-year brats!” one of the seniors calls. “Stop dicking around. We’re leaving.”

As Ushijima is walking out into the hallway, the captain claps him on the back, says, “Good job today, Ushiwaka! Be ready for Thursday’s game. You too, Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Alright, let’s go eat!”

The seniors always go out for dinner after matches, but it’s not mandatory for everyone to attend. Ushijima has only had dinner with the team once. 

He thinks that he will go tonight. However, halfway to the restaurant, Oikawa and Iwaizumi excuse themselves, Oikawa claiming that he has homework to do, and Iwaizumi grunting in agreement. Both of them still look irritated, and Ushijima sees them start arguing as soon as they reach the next block. He decides to go home too.

On the way, he checks what “UST” means on his phone and is a little upset that Oikawa does not want to have that with him.

***

He has gotten what he really wanted, Ushijima reminds himself, so there is no reason to want more. He tells himself this once before practice, a few times during practice, several times in the shower, every time Oikawa touches him. It’s enough that he is playing better than he has ever before, that his teammates like him, that he is doing well in his classes, that he has a part-time job lined up for the summer, that he only gets lost about once a week. True, he hasn’t made much progress in finding a person he can date, but there are plenty of nice people on campus. There is no reason to be hung up on Oikawa Tooru.

He wishes that Oikawa was easier to dislike, that he was all show and no substance, but the more time they spend together, the more Ushijima admires him. There are some people, like himself, who have talent in abundance. A little bit of effort goes a long way. But Oikawa has to spend hours practicing to achieve the level of sprezzatura he shows during an official match. He has to spend a great deal of time practicing his own serves and observing the team as well. He is good at drawing out each player’s strengths. And he is sincere in his love for volleyball. And he is kind in his own way.

The only way to resolve this mess, Ushijima realizes, is to ask Oikawa to find him a girlfriend. Once Oikawa does, Ushijima will know for certain that there is no hope for them. 

Ushijima waits until the week before summer break. Then, after practice, he tells Oikawa, “I need a favor. Please.”

“Hurry up,” Oikawa says, folding his arms. “Iwa-chan has found a new friend. I have to meet him to make sure he’s not a bad influence.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Iwaizumi says, picking up a volleyball.

Oikawa ducks, and then, to Ushijima’s surprise, tries to hide behind him. “Stand right there, Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa says, gripping Ushijima’s shoulders lightly. “Yes, just like that.” He sticks his tongue out at Iwaizumi.

“You think I won’t hit him?!” Iwaizumi says, but he does toss the ball back into a basket.

“I’m also looking for a new friend,” Ushijima says. He looks at Oikawa, who withdraws his hands. “Can you find me someone before you leave for summer break?”

The words sounded better in his head. Ushijima winces. But it’s too late to take them back now. 

He expects Iwaizumi and Oikawa to start laughing, but both of them are quiet, staring at him. Finally, Iwaizumi asks Oikawa, “You want me to hit him?” 

“No.” Oikawa smiles. “It’s okay. Go meet up with your friend.”

After Iwaizumi has left, Oikawa says, “Of course I’ll help you find a friend, Ushiwaka-chan.” He is still smiling. “But you’ll have to wait until I get back to Tokyo. I’ll be back at the end of July. I was going to stay and find a part-time job too, but Takeru wants to see me.”

“Tell him I said hello,” Ushijima says. He wishes he could go see him too. Oikawa’s nephew is a good kid.

“And don’t try to find any friends until I return,” Oikawa says. 

Ushijima is puzzled, but he replies, “Alright.”

***

On the last day of July, Ushijima is in the process of unlocking the gym where he part-times at when Oikawa appears, his hair covered by the hood of his maroon-colored sweatshirt, holding a cup of coffee.

“’Morning,” Oikawa says. 

“When did you get back?” Ushijima asks.

“Late, late last night. Or was it this morning? Anyway.” Oikawa smiles. “When does your work end?”

“Why?”

“I want you to show me what you’ve learned about Tokyo while I was gone. How about I come around three?”

“Fine,” Ushijima says. Maybe this is Oikawa’s roundabout way of setting him up. He will probably find himself attending a group date in the evening. The thought hurts, but he knows this is something that he has to do, just jump in with both feet.

He puts his thoughts about the upcoming date out of his head, gets to work. It is mind-numbing work, here at this public gym frequented by middle-aged people trying to stay in shape. He mostly sits around at the receptionist’s desk. However, it gives him pocket change, the other employees like him well enough, and he gets to work out when business is slow. 

At three on the dot, Oikawa returns. He looks much more awake. His hair is a little wavier than Ushijima remembers. 

Oikawa says, pointing to his hair, “Ah, you like it? I thought about going for an image change, getting it cut, you know, when I was at the salon with Takeru, but then I wouldn’t be able to style it properly. He says hello too, by the way, and that you need to practice hard so that you don’t lose to him when you two have a match.”

Ushijima smiles. Oikawa remarks, “Too bad Iwa-chan wasn’t here to see that.”

“Where is he?”

“You know,” Oikawa says, starting towards the intersection, “you can just get his number and keep tabs on him yourself. I promise he doesn’t bite. Well, he hasn’t bitten me yet.”

At the crosswalk, Oikawa says, “He’s coming back in another week or so. That friend he was talking about? The two of them are going to Kyoto or something like that.”

“Too bad they didn’t invite you, huh,” Ushijima says.

Oikawa frowns at him. “That wasn’t nice, Ushiwaka-chan. For your information, they did. But I promised you that I would help you find a friend, so here I am. Oikawa-san keeps his promises.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Oikawa is wearing shorts and a T-shirt, so they are probably headed to a casual place. Ushijima hopes they aren’t going shopping for clothes. He doesn’t have much spending money. He has been saving up his allowance for an apartment. He wants to move out of the dorms before third-year.

After ten minutes, they come close to a farmers market set up in front of a train station. Ushijima has heard about these markets before and has wanted to come to one for a while. He wants to start cooking for himself. Fast food is getting tiring. 

“Wait,” he tells Oikawa. “I’m going to buy something. The market might be closed by the time we return.”

Oikawa tilts his head, gives him a quizzical smile. “Where are we returning from, Ushiwaka-chan?” he asks.

“Wherever you’re planning to go.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Ushijima heads towards the fruit vendors. He hasn’t eaten any oranges since he left home. And then he is going to get some grapes, then those fresh red tomatoes, and then those fat husks of corn. He queues up in front of the stall of oranges, inhales deeply. Everything smells fresh and green and earthy.

“Good,” Oikawa says, beaming. “Take your time, Ushiwaka-chan. We’re actually not going anywhere else.”

Ushijima was busy staring at the oranges, so it takes him a moment to understand Oikawa’s words. When he does, he turns to Oikawa and asks, “You planned this trip?”

“They have a stall with seeds too, look,” Oikawa says, pointing. “You used to have a garden back in Tohoku, right? Too bad our dorms don’t have balconies, but you could probably keep a plant near the window. Your building gets more light in the morning than mine does.”

“Thank you,” Ushijima says. 

He wants to kiss Oikawa. He knows now, with absolute certainty, that he will never get over this crush. No, not a crush. Love, most probably.

***

Oikawa, complaining all the way, helps bring the groceries up to Ushijima’s dorm room. However, he hasn’t said one word about finding a “friend” since they met up in the afternoon. Ushijima lets him complain.

“Your room is as boring as I thought it would be,” Oikawa remarks as he toes his sneakers off at the doorway.

Ushijima sets out a new pair of household slippers for Oikawa to wear and then takes the oranges and the strawberry plant out of his arms. He half-expects Oikawa to laugh and say that he isn’t going to stay, but Oikawa slides his feet into the slippers. 

He has beautifully shaped feet. Ushijima looks away.

“These rooms are so small,” Oikawa complains, sitting down at Ushijima’s desk. “You can barely move without knocking into something.” He scoots the chair back until it hits Ushijima’s bed. “You see?”

“Yeah,” Ushijima says. He has to squeeze past Oikawa’s knees in order to reach his windowsill, where he places the strawberry plant. He puts the oranges on the desk. 

“Where are you going to cook?” Oikawa asks, opening the bag of corn.

“There’s a kitchen downstairs.”

“Really?” He looks up, smiles. “Will you wear a cute apron while cooking, Ushiwaka-chan?”

“No.”

“Aw. I wouldn’t mind watching you cook in an apron.” Oikawa swivels around in the chair and then climbs onto the bed, where he makes himself comfortable, sitting cross-legged.

“You want me to make you dinner?” Ushijima finds himself asking.

“Hmm?” Oikawa looks up from the blanket he was examining. “Maybe later.”

Ushijima glances at the groceries. “You want fruit? I have a bowl. Hold on. And I’ll put some in a bag for you to take home.”

Before he can move away, Oikawa reaches out and touches his wrist, says, “When are you going to kiss me, Ushiwaka-chan?”

All the blood in Ushijima’s body immediately rises to his face. He is amazed at how easily Oikawa was able to say the word “kiss.” There isn’t even a hint of a blush on Oikawa’s face. Maybe he is used to having these kinds of conversations. But, as embarrassed as Ushijima is, he also knows that he can’t let this chance pass him by.

Ushijima leans close, rests the tips of his fingers on Oikawa’s hair. The texture is rougher than his own. He asks, “You want this?”

Oikawa tilts his head into Ushijima’s hand, licks his upper lip as he replies, “How about we try and find out?”

Ushijima pulls Oikawa closer and kisses him on the mouth. He hasn’t kissed anyone before, but it’s not difficult, he realizes as he moves his mouth over Oikawa’s. And it is very pleasant, especially when Oikawa puts both his hands into Ushijima’s hair and then licks into Ushijima’s mouth.

Oikawa is quieter and more sincere, somehow, when he is like this, and also more intense, like he is trying to commit all of Ushijima to memory. His hands are everywhere, touching and lingering and stroking and grasping hard enough to leave bruises. Ushijima wasn’t planning on going this fast or this far yet, but when Oikawa tugs his shirt up, he climbs onto the bed, presses Oikawa against the pillows. He slides his hand into Oikawa’s shorts, kisses him again. 

Ushijima comes first, just by Oikawa palming him through his boxers, but Oikawa finishes less than a minute after, gasping, his eyes wide. So, it’s okay. Ushijima reaches for the tissues on the nightstand and cleans them both off. Oikawa is very still, watching him.

Ushijima lies down next to him. It is a tight fit because of the small mattress. He is half-sprawled on top of Oikawa. His skin is clammy, sliding against Oikawa’s, and Oikawa’s breath is hot against his ear. Ushijima feels like he is dreaming. His alarm is going to go off any minute now.

Oikawa presses his mouth to Ushijima’s shoulder, murmurs, “You’re much softer than you look.”

“What?” Ushijima asks.

Oikawa laughs, pokes Ushijima’s stomach. “I mean that your abs need more work, of course. You have some chub here. Not quite so rock-hard, are you?” He sits up. “Alright, now I want dinner. Give me a pair of your least awful shorts, and then let’s go cook. By that I mean you’re going to cook, and I’ll taste test.”

“Alright,” Ushijima replies. 

Oikawa pushes Ushijima’s leg with one foot, smiling. “Come on, slowpoke,” he says.

Ushijima strokes the underside of Oikawa’s foot with his thumb, and Oikawa protests, withdrawing his foot, “You’re being weird, Ushiwaka-chan! And I’m not ticklish, so don’t bother.”

Ushijima resolves to test Oikawa’s claim about not being ticklish in the near future. Tomorrow night. Tonight he has a dinner date with his new friend.

***

Iwaizumi remarks at the end of the first practice after summer break, “Good, I’m glad you two don’t have your heads up your asses anymore.”

“Not figuratively, true,” Oikawa agrees, holding the door of the locker room open for him. “But Ushiwaka-chan sometimes likes to put his head-”

“Stop,” Ushijima and Iwaizumi say simultaneously.

“Perfectly in sync,” Oikawa says, giving them a thumbs-up. “I expect you two to be as coordinated during our next match.” Humming to himself, he grabs a towel out of Ushijima’s locker and walks towards the showers.

“Well.” Iwaizumi glances at Ushijima. “Guess it could’ve been worse. Congratulations and all that.”

“You too,” Ushijima replies. And then, to be friendly, he asks, “You want to go on a double date?”

Iwaizumi turns bright red, splutters, “W-what?! No!” He stomps off to the showers, where he starts yelling at Oikawa.

Ushijima wishes he had kept his mouth shut. He still has much to learn about how relationships work. Oikawa is going to be annoyed now and will only forgive him after making him do about a thousand things.

As Iwaizumi is leaving, Ushijima says, “Sorry.”

Oikawa, who was drying his hair, glances up, looking startled. Iwaizumi says, with a small smile, “Don’t sweat it, Ushiwaka. Later.” The door closes behind him.

Oikawa tosses his things into his bag and then remarks, “Good, you should be sorry for all the times you crushed our dreams in the past, Ushiwaka-chan.” He loops his arm through Ushijima’s. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Ushijima says.

Oikawa withdraws his arm, but at the crosswalk he twines his pinky around Ushijima’s. When Ushijima looks at him, Oikawa smiles, asks, “Would you like to do something tonight?”

Ushijima takes Oikawa’s hand in his own and squeezes it.


End file.
